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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426812">You See Through Right to the Heart of me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laisaxrem/pseuds/Laisaxrem'>Laisaxrem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>This is Us (english version) [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Kazekage Gaara (Naruto), Short One Shot, ah matsuri is shinki's mother, becoming father, meeting your son for the first time, shinki is a little bean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:35:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426812</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laisaxrem/pseuds/Laisaxrem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After an evening of intense work and a night characterized by insomnia, Gaara is woken up by his brother: there has been an accident at the orphanage, an accident with iron sand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gaara &amp; Kankurou (Naruto), Gaara &amp; Matsuri, Gaara &amp; Shinki (Naruto)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>This is Us (english version) [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You See Through Right to the Heart of me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409484">You See Through Right to the Heart of me</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laisaxrem/pseuds/Laisaxrem">Laisaxrem</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>DATE: Saturday, 28th September 1690<br/>TITLE: I Have Nothing - Whitney Houston</p><p>And like always I apologize for the huge grammar errors and other stuff. English is not really my forte.<br/>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gaara was tired.</p><p>The meeting with the Council the previous evening had gone on for a long time and after that he had had to stay in the office to finish some work. It was after two in the morning when he was finally able to return to his quarters and as usual sleep was slow in coming. He had rested perhaps a couple of hours before a hammering on the door woke him up with a start.</p><p>«Kazekage-sama. Kazekage-sama!» a voice called from behind the solid wood. «Kazekage-sama, please, we need you!»</p><p>Suddenly the exhaustion receded and Gaara jumped to his feet, the sand swirling slowly around the room. What the hell had happened?</p><p>He didn’t even have time to start dressing and ask what the problem was, that the door swung open and the sand prepared to attack. But on the threshold there was Kankurō, dressed in simple trousers and a slightly creased shirt. His face was not painted but on his shoulders he was holding one of his puppets. He was evidently ready for battle, although not in full uniform.</p><p>«Gaara, there was an accident at the orphanage», he announced as he went to his closet without too many ceremonies and pulled out the first set of clothes he found. And it wasn’t his uniform. But Gaara paid no attention to it and began to dress.</p><p>«What happened?»</p><p>«It’s not entirely clear. But the guard spoke of an attack». Kankurō’s voice was strange and Gaara glanced at him as he slipped his head into the shirt. «With the satetsu».</p><p>Gaara froze in the middle of the movement.</p><p>Iron sand had not been seen since the death of the Sandaime Kazekage. It was an invaluable gift to Suna… but it could also become an equally great curse, especially for the bearer. And Gaara cursed himself internally as he secured the jar of sand to his side. He had always called himself a Kazekage attentive to his people so how was it possible that in Suna there was someone with that ability and he <em>was not aware of it</em>? Damn. Neither Kankurō nor the guard had spoken of an intrusion from the outside so it must necessarily have been someone from the orphanage; probably one of the assistants. He knew they were all civilians but maybe one of them had jiton, probably so weak that it went unnoticed for years. And at that moment they must have been terrified.</p><p>«Hurry».</p>
<hr/><p>The orphanage was a simple complex of circular structures typical of Suna’s urban architecture. Twelve years earlier it had been expanded to accommodate the huge amount of children orphaned by the Fourth Ninja War but now, thankfully, the guests had dwindled to a few dozen.</p><p>A few years earlier Gaara had proposed to the Council to establish a system of fostering and adoptions as Kakashi had done in Konoha, but his idea was nipped in the bud. Not that the orphanage was particularly uncomfortable or not suitable for children, on the contrary; and even the assistants were chosen only from qualified personnel. Of this Gaara had always made sure. But it was definitely not the best place to raise children already traumatized by the loss of their parents.</p><p>At that moment the order, which had always characterized that place during every visit to Gaara, had completely disappeared, giving way to chaos. The outer courtyard was full of people; children in pyjamas crying or looking around with an intimidated expression as staff tried to attend to them (a woman in the corner sang a typical Suna lullaby, a new-born in her arms while a couple of two-year-olds slept on her lap). About twenty shinobi stood guard and some iryō-nins were looking after a man with a bloodied chest.</p><p>As soon as he set foot on the ground after the flight with the sand, the Kazekage was immediately surrounded by a couple of his ANBUs, some jōnin and the director of the orphanage.</p><p>«What happened?» he asked without too many preambles.</p><p>«He woke up screaming from a nightmare», the director began after bending deeply in a greeting. There was something in her dark eyes, something that Gaara knew tremendously well. Terror, disgust, anger. And he didn’t like that look, he didn’t like it at all. «And when one of my guys came over to calm him down, he snapped and the sand started swirling all over the orphanage. We barely managed to get all the children and staff out». The anger and fear were now evident not only in the eyes but also in the voice and body language. «He’s one of the new children», she finally spat.</p><p>The Kazekage’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be. He had assumed it was one of the assistants. He could perceive the chakra moving inside the building and it was <em>not possible</em> that it belonged to a child.</p><p>«One of the…»</p><p>«He’s Matsuri’s son» one of the jōnin intervened in a whisper.</p><p>Gaara froze.</p><p>Matsuri had been his first student, probably the first of Suna’s shinobi, outside his family, to look at him with something that wasn’t fear. He had considered her a friend, almost a member of the family. She had died just a couple of months earlier on a mission and Gaara had attended her funeral. He absently remembered the presence of a child dressed in black but hadn’t dwelt too much on that thought, his mind focused on the annual Kage meeting that would take place in Konoha in a few days. Now he remembered perfectly that Matsuri had been widowed only a few months after the wedding, when she still didn’t know she was pregnant; he remembered going to congratulate her in the hospital when the baby was born and he remembered seeing her in the streets of the Village with her son in her arms or clinging to her hand. But never, not even for a moment in those two months, had he wondered what had become of that child.</p><p>Now he knew. And remorse gripped his stomach painfully.</p><p>«I see. I’ll handle that. You stay here», he ordered, walking towards the front door, the tingling on his skin increasing with each step. It was a frightening amount of chakra for a child of… what, four years old?</p><p>«Kazekage-sama, do you think it’s wise to venture in there alone?» came a worried question from one of his ANBUs, who was following him a few steps away.</p><p>«He’s only a child».</p><p>But then Kankurō’s voice made him stop a few steps from the entrance.</p><p>«Gaara… The Yoroi…»</p><p>Gaara had stopped wearing his sand armour many years ago, after the Akatsuki had snatched Shukaku from him. Without the power of the Bijū, in fact, he had realized that, although his chakra reserve was still definitely above average, the constant use of that technique was too burdensome for his body. Only in exceptional cases had he allowed himself to be persuaded by his siblings or by Baki to wear it again. But he had no intention of doing it in this situation.</p><p>«Don’t worry, Kankurō», he said, placing his hand on his shoulder and squeezing slightly. «Everything will be fine». And he entered the building.</p>
<hr/><p>The iron sand was everywhere. It whirled in tight coils on the floor and in the air, sometimes slow, others more restless, like a wild animal hunted by a predator. Sometimes, unexpectedly, it would attack, and his sand shield intervened to protect him. And the more he walked the more the satetsu became frenzied and threatening and Gaara realized he was close to his goal.</p><p>The child was in a large dormitory with eight of what must once have been metal beds and were now crumpled against the walls along with torn fabric and splinters of wood from the rest of the furniture. He was sitting on the floor, his elbows on his knees, his hands buried in his dark hair to hide his face, his small shoulders shaking with irregular breathing. It looked like a portrait of despair and pain, and for a moment he reminded Gaara of himself at his age. His heart clenched painfully and he took a step forward.</p><p>The iron sand, which had continued to swirl around him, suddenly stopped while the child looked up and passed him with his green eyes. Gaara knew that the expression on that face, in those eyes, would remain in his memory for all the days he had left to live.</p><p>He didn’t have time to decide what to say, how to talk to a terrified child, because in a moment it seemed that all the satetsu that had filled the building had poured into that room that now seemed damn smaller than it was only a few seconds before. Gaara raised his arms to shield his face as the black sand swirled and swirled, lightly scratching his skin.</p><p>He took another step forward, towards the child, and the satetsu seemed to go mad turning into a real sandstorm, forcing his shield to come between him and the enemy. Only that was not an enemy; he was just a terrified child who had found himself alone and in possession of a frightening power he could not control. Struggling against his instinct, which screamed at him to attack and end the danger that lay before him, Gaara ordered the shield to retract and continued his advance, his arms as his only defence.</p><p>It was now a couple of steps away from the child when, in the midst of the storm, the satetsu began to form black blades as long as his forearm, and Gaara understood that he had to act if he did not want to end up as a pincushion… or, worse, that his sand moved of its own accord and did something reckless to the child.</p><p>Looking back over the next few days, the Kazekage had to admit to himself (and Kankurō) that perhaps what he chose to do was not exactly a wise move.</p><p>In fact, just as the iron dust blades attacked, Gaara knelt on the ground and pulled the child to him, holding him in a hug. The storm stopped immediately, probably because its little creator was as shocked by that gesture as Gaara himself was; but the same did not happen to the blades and the man felt a tearing pain when one hit his shoulder while a second struck his right side and a third pierced his calf. He immediately felt his sand rise and hiss, ready to launch the attack, but Gaara hastened to quiet it.</p><p>Meanwhile the child hadn’t moved a muscle, stiff in his grip like a wooden plank, and the Kazekage withdrew just enough to peer into his face. If earlier his gaze had been full of fear and blind anger, now those green eyes were wide open in a (almost) comic expression of surprise. Gaara allowed himself a half smile. However, the fact that the satetsu was still there, impregnating the air with black clouds, and that the iron sand blades were still planted in his flesh, told him that the danger had not yet passed, that this senseless and unusual gesture on his part it was not enough. It had attracted the child’s attention, sure, but now he had to calm him down enough so that the jutsu would disperse.</p><p>«I know you’re scared, and angry, and lonely», he began cautiously, not taking his eyes off the astonished child. «But losing control like this is not acceptable», and with a nod of his head he indicated the suspended sand and beyond it the faint outlines of the beds crumpled against the walls.</p><p>The little boy did not say a word but looked down slightly and his cheeks turned slightly red. Well, maybe he had found the right key.</p><p>«I’ll help you understand and master your power, if you will allow me», he added, softening his tone a little. «You will leave this place and come and live with me in the palace».</p><p>At that proposal, which was more an order, the iron sand finally disintegrated and collapsed to the ground, forming a thick layer of inanimate dust on the floor. The three knives embedded in his flesh also melted and Gaara distinctly felt the pain sharpen and the blood flowing more copiously from his wounds. Kankurō would have been mad as hell.</p><p>But he would think of that later.</p><p>Satisfied, he leaned forward and gently placed a hand on the child’s shoulder and asked: «What’s your name?»</p><p>He looked at him, an uncertain expression on his face, halfway between curious and uncertain. But finally he opened his mouth and with a faint voice said: «Shinki…»</p><p>And passed out. Gaara grabbed him immediately, ignoring the pain in his wounds, and pressed him to his chest. He was so small but he contained enormous strength.</p><p>Aware that the injured calf would not be able to support him adequately, not without the risk of waking Shinki, Gaara recalled his sand and climbed onto it, letting himself be carried out of the orphanage with that precious burden wrapped in his arms.</p><p>(Now he just had to figure out how to hide his injuries from Kankurō.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been wanting to write for a while about how Shinki came into Gaara's life. I love the relationship between those two, also and above all because of BakaPandy, an extraordinary artist I follow on Twitter (and Tumblr and Instagram) and who creates images and short comics about them. I started working on this fic the other night and surprisingly I finished it in record time. So expect a 2021 full of disasters. Seriously, I had never really dwelt much on the new generation because it meant putting in Metal and explaining where he came from since in this AU Rock Lee was in a serious relationship with Gaara. I've been working on this for months. I know when they break up, I know why, I know what Lee does next and who Metal's mother is, but since I still have nothing but excerpts from these fics I have tried to keep myself from writing about the new generation. But this particular story wrote itself, without necessarily having to talk about the GaaLee... so here it is.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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